


Distant Fragments Of Youth

by artyom



Category: Metro 2033 & Related Fandoms
Genre: Artyom's Childhood, Childhood Memories, Father-Son Relationship, No Romance, Post-Apocalypse, adoptive father, adoptive parent trope, kid artyom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23392735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artyom/pseuds/artyom
Summary: As Artyom hasn't returned at VDNKh for weeks and is now considered lost, Sukhoi recalls numerous memories of the boy's childhood. He catches glimpses of the times he was raising the kid, starting from the very day he saved him.• This is based on the novel Metro 2033, sorry I barely know anything about the games• Inspired by my boyfriend @/ChachaTortuga making metro art on twitter!• Russian translation by MenseLux on ficbook : https://ficbook.net/readfic/9682684
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. 01

**Author's Note:**

> So basically my bf recommended me a Russian post-apocalyptic book some days ago, and here I am. I just wanted to write a wholesome thing about young Artyom growing up in the metro, so I did, hope you can enjoy it! An important disclaimer though : English is NOT my first language, I try my best but there might be some mistakes out there, sorry in advance...  
> Hope you enjoy the adventures of young Artyom !

Sukhoi wished he could tell that he would remember the face of this woman until the day he died. But he wouldn’t. As a matter of fact, he barely saw the poor woman’s face in all that chaos. He had only sensed the intensity of her terror and heard her cry for mercy over all the others as she pulled his sleeve. What would probably stick to his mind, however, was how the little boy she handed him didn’t cry, not even after Sukhoi grabbed his hand to take him away from his mom, and away from death. Such a tiny chubby hand. Looking back on it, Sukhoi wondered how he didn’t break it when he squeezed it to pick the little lad up and run for dear life. But truth is, in the moment, he didn’t really think at all, didn’t look back and didn’t talk. Still, no tears were shed from the poor kid when he shouted « _RATS !_ » as loud as if he wanted the whole metro to hear. No tears were shed when he hopped on the motorized trolley and get it at full speed to outrun the wave of rats behind them. « _What’s that now ?_ » one of the others on the rushing trolley asked once he realized, in the middle of the rush, that he had brought another person aboard. Sukhoi simply stared at the young face for a while, out of breath. « _A kid._ » he managed to breathe out to the other. « _Sure looks like one._ » the other man scoffed. But the conversation didn’t go any longer as they were approaching Savyolovskaya, and the few survivors needed to slow down and give the alert in order to not get fired on. Then again, Sukhoi saw no tears in the eyes of the child, only the bright reflection of the immense fire sent towards the rats as they were finally safe at the station. Once the dangerous creatures retreated in the depths of the tunnels, he looked down at the boy who was still holding his hand tight, but not saying a single thing. He squatted down to meet a mildly terrified gaze. Was it fear or admiration ? He couldn’t really tell. Although what he could tell was that this one wasn’t born in the metro. He was from up there, even though he had probably stayed only briefly before his mom had to take shelter down like everyone else. Sukhoi didn’t know what to say. He didn’t really realize he had just saved a child’s life. « _What’s your name ?_ » he figured that if he had to start somewhere, he’d better start there. The kid gulped and looked down before he finally spoke « _Artyom._ ». His voice was less trembling that what Sukhoi had expected from a traumatized child. Then he felt the interrogating look on him and said « _I’m Sukhoi_. » He was already out of ideas on what to say next, but he saw the reassurance slowly growing on Artyom’s face. As if this, in a five years old mind, meant they were no strangers to each other now. Sukhoi guessed it did.

Then he walked around, silently thinking. _What to do now ?_ he asked himself while Artyom followed him closely. He ended up sitting down on the dirty grey ground, realizing he didn’t even check if the quiet boy had any injuries. He had some scratches on his face, but nothing serious. He sighed. What to do now. « _What are you gonna do ?_ » one of his mates asked as if his thinking was getting loud. « _Well,_ » he started not knowing what he’d say « _I can’t abandon a child._ » He got an unsure look from the guy : « _Can you take care of one though ?_ ». He figured that was as useful as the conversation would get, and went back to silence. But this time, he thought about how he could quickly get back at VDNKh. He could not possibly abandon this little kid, not after saving him. Giving up on him there meant letting him wander around and have a slow death when he just avoided a quick one. Sukhoi was unable to do such a thing. After all, he was the reason Artyom was there, wasn’t he ? He didn’t really know how, but he had to take responsibility. « _How old are you Artyom ?_ » he suddenly asked. « _I’m five._ » he answered while raising five fingers to Sukhoi’s face. The man smiled a little. Could he really take care correctly of such a young person, of a child who wasn’t his ? Well, he had to try anyway. « _Come on Artyom_ » he said as he got up, and the clever kid followed right away. « _I’m going to bring you-_ » he stopped as he was about to say « home » « _I’ll bring you some other place, follow me._ » And Artyom did.

_The now old man sighed and laid his back on the bench. Sukhoi had a painful smile on his face, now that his brain was reminding him of this day, while Artyom had been nowhere to be seen for a week and a half. He frowned and placed his weary head between his hands. He didn’t know he could have such bright and clear memories about someone now most likely lost. The more he let his worried mind wander, the more details he remembered about raising the boy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that first part was pretty short, the next ones are a bit longer, but this was mainly to relate Artyom's rescue. Lemme know your thoughts on this! Thanks for reading!


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's part two!! There's a bit of a sad moment, but it gets happier later on. Characters' representations are still taken from the book, though I think so far all of them are also in the games at some point... I'm kinda clueless-  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Sukhoi watched the five years old opening wide eyes as they arrived at the VDNkh station. It wasn’t much, but Artyom seemed to be intrigued. He stared at the round arches and dirty white walls with faded paint. The odd atmosphere of the red emergency lights didn’t seem to bother him. The inhabitants passed without looking at them or wondering who was the young newcomer, and he seemed rather shy. He still kept an eye on Artyom as they walked through the station. He thought the boy’s dark hair could use a cut, it was falling in front of his rather round face. He looked in his eyes which shined with curiosity, and wondered if the kid would remember the tragedy of his home station. Would he even remember his mother ? Sukhoi suddenly felt sorry for him. «  _ Sir ? _ » the little one called with a shy voice «  _ Is this where you live ?  _ ». He was pointing at the large military tents staying underneath the arches of the stations. «  _ No, I live over here. _ » he took the boy to the main thoroughfare, where tents had also been installed for people to live in, a bit less large the ones assigned for families. Sukhoi didn’t have that. He’d been a loner, as far as he could remember. Not that he never wanted to have kids of his own, but somehow the occasion never really came. «  _ There. _ » he told Artyom once they got in front of his home. «  _ Oh and, you don’t have to call me sir.  _ » He looked down on him and gave him a clumsy reassuring smile. «  _ You can call me… _ » but he stopped there, doubting. He couldn’t really call him dad, could he ? Yet he didn’t want to be just « Sukhoi » to a kid he planned on taking care of. He quickly improvised «  _ You can call me Uncle Sasha. _ » The boy nodded. He seemed to like the idea and followed him inside the tent. There, Sukhoi offered him a glass of filtered water. He unpacked some stuff, and tried to think of where the boy could sleep. He luckily found an additional sleeping bag he had, and decided this would do the job for now. He found some pork meat to make a decent meal for the kid and himself, who ate with a good appetite. Somehow, the man felt relieved. Maybe it wouldn’t be that complicated after all. He went up to boil a kettle of water and felt the curious look on his back.  _ « I’m making tea _ » he explained,  _ « Do you want a bowl ? _ ». But he understood, from Artyom’s confused face, that he probably never drank some VDNKh’s tea. He poured a little of the famous beverage in a bowl and handed him «  _ Here, have a taste if you’d like _ ». Artyom took the hot bowl in his tiny hands and smelled it, not that confident. He drank out of it, put the bowl down and frowned. « It tastes strange » he admitted with a concerned look on his face. Sukhoi had a benevolent laugh and tapped his shoulder «  _ It’s okay, you’ll grow used to the bitter taste, I’m sure you’ll like it someday.  _ ». The kid rose his shoulders, apparently amused.

Once it was time for them to sleep according to the station’s clocks, Artyom slipped into the sleeping bag, which was ridiculously too big for him.  _ At least he’ll be warm _ , Sukhoi thought. He was about to turn all light source off, and heard Artom’s low voice asking «  _ Uncle Sasha ? _ » «  _ Yes ? _ » After all, it seemed easy to respond to this title. Maybe one day it’ll seem natural. «  _ Is my mom dead ? _ ». Sukhoi froze. He couldn’t even turn back to look at the child. Was he supposed to lie ? Sure, he could tell that she was alright, that she’ll come to pick him up later in the month. But did he really want to bring such a cruel kind of hope in his mind ? To watch him wait for her to return every day while knowing it’ll never happen would be the worst. Still, he had been scared of that question ever since they made their way to VDNKh. «  _ Is she ? _ » he repeated with a trembling voice, seeking answer from the man. «  _ Yes. _ » Sukhoi finally blurted out. He couldn’t bare to lie only for him to understand the truth later. As painful as it was. Sukhoi convinced himself that it was the right decision, but the next thing Artyom asked made his old heart sting «  _ So I can’t come back to see her ? _ ». His rescuer turned back to see that his greyish eyes, which had been all curious and impressed all day, were now all watery. He started sobbing after meeting Sukhoi’s look. From the beginning, this was probably the first time he’d seen him cry. Seemed like he already knew the answer to his own question. He sighed and passed a hand in the boy’s already messy hair. «  _ No, but you can stay there with me now Artyom.  _ » Strangely, the little boy gradually stopped sobbing. Maybe what he needed was to hear it. To know that it was really true, that it really happened. He seemed like an intelligent child. Sukhoi tried not to regret his decision to tell him, but it was hard. He wanted to do the right thing, maybe to tell him it would be all okay. He didn’t really know how to do such things, especially with a kid. He hoped that growing up with a harsh truth would be better for him than to live on a fake hope, he really did. He checked and realized that Artyom had fallen asleep while he was thinking the same things over and over. He waited a bit to be sure the boy was alright, and tried to get some rest as well.

«  _ Come on, I’m gonna show you around _ » Sukhoi announced once the little kid had awakened from his sleep. He rushed out following the man, pretty excited. He listened and watched as Sukhoi explained the placing of tents, administrative and technical quarters, all that made the station what it was. «  _ There’s a pig farm, and a mushroom plantation, and that’s the tea factory over there. _ » The child made a scowled face, faking disgust as he remembered the taste of the tea, which yet again made him laugh «  _ You know, that’s how the station makes money _ » «  _ People buy the tea ? _ » Artyom repeated unbelieving «  _ Yes, and I’m sure you will too one day _ » Sukhoi lightly laughed again «  _ Who knows, maybe you’ll find a job at the factory _ ». «  _ Hm, I think I prefer being with the pigs Uncle Sasha. _ » Once again, it made Sukhoi smile. He was a clever kid, and a pretty endearing one so far.

« _Sukhoi ?_ » The man turned back « _Oh, Nikolaï, how have you been ?_ » he shook the hand of the tall man and to his wife. « _I’m good, I’m good, and what about…_ » Nikolaï stared at little Artyom, confused « _What about you ?_ » Sukhoi simply nodded. « _And who’s that one ?_ » Karolina asked while holding her baby daughter in her arms. Artyom didn’t say a thing, visibly a bit frightened by strangers, and stayed nervously behind Sukhoi. « _That’s Artyom_. » The boy looked up to the couple, still silent « _He’s from Timiryazevskaya._ » « _Oh, poor one._ » the man said apologetically. Sukhoi sighed « _I think he’s the only one who did get out of there… So now he’s with me_ » He didn’t really know how to put it nicer than that, unfortunately. « _Oh… Will you be alright ?_ » Sukhoi sighed, he wasn’t 20 for god’s sake. But, his pride put aside, he didn’t really have any idea of how to take care of a child correctly. « _We can maybe help you out on a few things_ » the woman gently suggested _« I assume that little one don’t have many clothes left_ » He didn’t, indeed. He still wore the clothes he had on when he escaped the day before. « _Thank you Karolina._ » « _It’s nothing, you know our little Zhenya is about the same age as this one, it’s no easy job._ » she chuckled softly « _Speaking of the devil_ » his dad said as a child came running towards them. He had freshly cut brown hair and scratched knees. He immediately stared at the newcomer, and while the three grown-ups kept talking, he went to him and bluntly greeted him « _I don’t know you ! »_ Artyom took a little step back, a bit nervous. But the other kid seemed friendly. « _I arrived from_ _Timiryazevskaya. » « What ? My parents say rats live there now. »_ The word rats sent a shiver down his spine. He nodded quickly, he didn’t want to talk about rats, he hated them. « _It’s much better here !_ » the other kid assured. « _But what I want to see is up there, I want to be a stalker when I grow up !_ » he proudly shared. « _Me too !_ » Artyom answered with more confidence now. He was five, yet already stalkers were legends in his eyes, and his curiosity was growing day by day. « _If you escaped the rats, I’m sure you can be a great stalker_ » The boy assumed, impressed. Artyom smiled. « _My name is Zhenya._ » « _I’m Artyom._ » Zhenya took his hand without warning and gushed « _Come Artyom I’m gonna show you some things !_ » He started running towards the main thoroughfare and they heard the voice of Zhenya’s mom « _Careful dear, Artyom is not from here, you better not get him lost !_ » _« I won’t !_ » he shouted while Sukhoi nervously watched the orphan running around with his new friend. The fact that he had no trouble integrating with kids of the station brought a feeling of relief to him. He hoped the boy he saved could have a decent life here. Making friends was a safe start.

_ Sukhoi drank a bowl of mushroom tea, but couldn’t really enjoy it. Zhenya had died today, amongst numerous other inhabitants of the VDNKh station. And Artyom was now assumed dead by anybody who talked about him. He kept drinking as he tried to remember the excitement of the two kids the first time they met, a couple of years ago. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at my boy making friends already... Turns out I really like to write about a bunch of kids growing up in a post-apocalyptic metro society. Eh. Sorry chapters are still quite short, and I don't really have any excuse- Part three and four are already written and I'll post them later.  
> You can lemme know what you think so far, and also if you read the book(s) or played the games!


	3. 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmmmm I don't really like this third part but eh here it is anyway

Artyom was finishing eating his breakfast, sat at the table next to Sukhoi. It had been a couple of days, actually a little bit more than a week since the little one was now sharing the tent with him, and he was relieved things were going quite alright so far. He did use a little help from Zhenya’s parents, and it seemed the boy started to settle. «  _ Come with me, Artyom _ » He excitedly jumped to follow the man. Sukhoi took a stool to sit on, so he was approximately at the kid’s height. «  _ Now, I think your hair needs to be cut shorter _ » The boy had a disappointed face «  _ Come on, you don’t want lice to get in there right ? »  _ He nodded and Sukhoi took an old hair clipper, which looked like it was living its last days. Somehow, the thing turned on and the buzzing noise made the kid jump. «  _ Stay still so I don’t slip Artyom.  _ » the man laughed. He started getting off big chunks of hair which fell on the ground as he went on. The boy didn’t move a bit, and soon he had a perfect buzzcut. Sukhoi brushed his head to get off the remaining cut hair and stood up «  _ All done. _ ». Artyom passed his tiny hand on his head, feeling the soft freshly cut hair. He chuckled «  _ Can I see ? _ » The man took him in front of the dirty square mirror he had, and lifted up the boy so he could see. He opened wide eyes seeing his own reflection «  _ You look handsome now. _ » Sukhoi reassured him. He put down the boy who kept touching his shaved hair. «  _ Thank you Uncle Sasha _ » Sukhoi felt his heart soften when watching at the large grin on the tiny boy’s face. «  _ Can I go join Zhenya outside now ? _ » Artyom asked. He was spending a lot of time with the other boy, which made Sukhoi happy, but still worried something might happen to them. After all, VDNKh was a pretty calm station. Not much could happen there. He watched as the boy joined the other one running clumsily. They probably went playing over the larger tents where Zhenya's family of four was living. 

«  _ Woah !  _ » Zhenya greeted his new friend  _ «Your hair ! It's really short. _ » he stated while Artyom was smiling shyly, but still a bit proud. «  _ My Uncle Sasha shaved it this morning.  _ »  _ «You look like a soldier now ! _ » Artyom really liked the comparison and kept his head high and stood still for a moment, imitating the few soldiers he had seen in his life. His friend's chuckle grew into a laugh, which Artyom shared. They kept wandering through the archways until Zhenya yelled «  _ Oy ! Vitali ! Vitali wait ! _ » The dark haired kid ran behind as his friend rushed to meet another boy, way taller than the two others. He turned back to see them and smiled «  _ Hey Zhenya ! _ » Artyom stayed back, a little impressed by the stranger. He was tall and thin, and had really light hair. «  _ Wait who is this ?  _ » He frowned, making Artyom even more nervous. «  _ It's Artyom and he's my new friend. We're the same age _ » He stated very seriously. «  _ See Artyom this is Vitali, but he is 7 ! He goes to school ! _ » the little boy said with much energy. «  _ School ? _ » Artyom repeated apparently impressed. Vitali crossed his arms and confirmed very proudly «  _ I'm learning how to read, so I can go to the library. _ » The two younger children listened to him with a sort of admiration. Artyom didn't know there was a library here. Once it was time for the three of them to go back to their parents, he waited for Sukhoi to come back, and sat at the table, pretty impatient. The moment the man entered he asked «  _ Uncle Sasha ? Can I learn how to read ? _ » He stared at the kid quite surprised by his request.  _ «Maybe it's a bit early for you to go to school, I think it starts for older kids, maybe six or seven _ » He explained. Artyom had a genuinely disappointed look on his face and mumbled «  _ I don't want to wait that long... _ » Sukhoi sighed and looked at the kid. He kind of looked like a lost puppy. The man gently tapped his shoulder «  _ I'll see if I can teach you some things about reading. _ » He did love reading, and he would be actually glad if that kid loved it too. Sometimes, he would come back from his missions with books that he kept for himself, he had one or two on a little shelf. Maybe in the future he could bring more, if the boy became fond of reading. Sukhoi squatted down in front of the wooden shelf and took a random one. It was a thick but rather little book, and the title on the dark blue cover was almost completely faded. «  _ Maybe I could start with reading you this one _ » He suggested. Artyom nodded quickly, so he opened the book on the table, sitting next to the impatient kid who seemed all ears.

_ Sukhoi just went home from the infirmary where the number of wounded people staying was growing higher and higher. He groaned as his back and knees were aching, and brutally sat on the table. He took a look at Artyom’s side of the tent, empty feeling. His bed was messy, and some of his stuff was laying on the ground. Sukhoi didn’t have the heart to touch anything. He got up and wandered around, unable to think about anything. His foot bumped into a tiny book, which he picked up. He brushed off the cover, and even though the title was now unreadable, he recognized it. It was a compilation of greek myths. It was the first book Artyom ever read. Sometimes, he would take it into his bed and read it, even if he knew the different stories by heart. He kept doing that from the day he learned to read on his own. Once, he ripped a page, and got well scolded for it. Sukhoi felt the ripped paper on his fingers. He thought about putting it back on the shelf, as he often did when the boy fell asleep with it. But he decided to leave it there on his bed, waiting. _


	4. 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit emotional I guess ? Hope you like it

Artyom yawned and his sleepy eyes blinked. « _I think it is time you go to sleep now_ » Sukhoi advised. « _But I want to know what happens to Orpheus_ » The boy yawned again « _Does he really cross the path without looking back ?_ » Sukhoi closed the little blue book and winked « _You’ll know that when I come back._ » The boy frowned anxiously. At some point, Sukhoi had to leave for missions and leave the young one on his own. He usually left for three days, and asked Zhenya’s parents to keep an eye on Artyom from time to time. He knew for a fact that the boy sometimes stayed over at their family tent, which he didn’t mind. All that mattered was for him to be safe. It was new, thinking about the safety of the boy while he went on mission. At first, he was extremely worried, but now that few months had passed, he trusted the boy. « _Can’t you tell me where you’re going this time ?_ » he asked before Sukhoi left the room. « _No_. » he answered harshly so the boy wouldn’t ask further questions. He was very strict about not letting Artyom know anything about what he did out there, scared of the danger it might bring to him. He still told him about a few stories when he came back, exaggerating some aspects so he got the attention, and admiration, of the little one. Although he never told him about his injuries when he returned with some serious ones. He didn’t want him to be exposed to the scary nature of the place he lived in. Not yet, or maybe never. Never would be good. Life was overall safe at this station, Sukhoi wanted it to last for Artyom. « _Now you sleep well Artyom. I’ll see you back in a bit._ » « _Good night Uncle Sasha_ » the kid mumbled sleepily. « _Good night_ » he answered after leaving the tent, not able to get rid of his worried feelings yet. When Artyom woke up the next morning, he was alone in the tent. He knew he had to stay inside the tent until he had the lunch Uncle Sasha had left for him, then he could join Zhenya and maybe Vitali would join them after school. The kid stayed in bed a bit, and he got up to follow his little routine, even if Sukhoi wasn’t here to supervise. He didn’t really like when Sukhoi was away, but he figured he had to get used to it. What helped was how impressed he was of the man he now called his stepfather. His missions were really important, and dangerous. That’s what he would tell his friends. He loved to tell his friends all kind of stories Sukhoi would tell when he came back. Truth be told, he felt really proud of the man who rescued him, and often bragged about it when Zhenya and Vitali were around. Even Vitali, the oldest, was impressed. The two younger kids often tried to impress Vitali. That day was no exception. They were running around the station, after Vitali was out of school. It had been exactly three days since Sukhoi had left to go on a mission, and Artyom was excited about his return, but he decided to stay with his friends just a little longer. « _I dare you two to take a few steps in the southern tunnels._ » Vitali suddenly dropped. Zhenya got confused « _But guards are there !_ » « _Not if you go this way_ » Vitali pointed a tunnel separation, where weak lights showed all the pipes, but no guards. « _I don’t know…_ » Artyom began. He was mainly thinking about the fact that he was supposed to be home waiting for Sukhoi to return at this point. Moreover, his rules on this were, as all the others, pretty strict. « _My stepfather says we’re too young to go there, that we gotta stay inside the station._ » He wanted to go home, but Vitali scoffed « And you’re doing everything he tells you, ‘cause you’re a nice puppydog. » The attack went straight to Artyom’s ego, and he yelled back, outraged « _I’m not a puppydog !_ » He had his little fists clenched and he frowned, secretly wanting to cry after the insult. « _Then let’s prove we all aren’t no puppydogs !_ ». And that’s how the three children got themselves walking towards the tunnel. Somehow, Artyom was excited, and well determined to prove he had the guts to take a few steps towards the dark unknown maze that every grown-up was always fussing about. « _Well, see, that wasn’t too complicated._ » Vitali chuckled. Artyom rolled his eyes up, but Zhenya was getting caught up in the exploration « _Come on, let’s go further !_ ». They all looked at each other. Neither of them wanted to be the one to ask to go back. So they kept on, heading a little closer to the darkness, little steps by little steps. Artyom, hearing a strange scratching noise, turned his head downwards and froze. At his feet, crawling there, was a big wet grey rat. He stared at the creature and his filthy paws scratching the ground for what seemed like an eternity, and he felt like he was being electrified. His heart suddenly went racing and he couldn’t feel his arms. All of a sudden, the only thing the little one could think of was to race. So he jumped and ran right in front of him, ignoring the surprised yelling of his friends. He closed his eyes but terrifying images came. Rats just like this one, flowing everywhere, eating everything. Maybe that one was behind him, maybe others would join, maybe they would eat everything. Artyom began to feel his legs abandoning him, and it was like his heart wanted to get out of his chest. His throat was sore and his breathing was disturbed by the violent sobbing. His chaotic race stopped right when his little leg got stuck in a pipe and he went falling from all his height. He kept crying while he tried to get up. He felt like rats were everywhere, but when he checked around him, it was only darkness. Darkness. Artyom panicked. He could barely see anything. He didn’t really know from where he came, but he tried to turn back and walk fast. He called for help, his voice gradually getting higher despite the tears. He felt so scared, of the rats, the dark, everything, he wanted to be home. He started running again until he bumped into something bigger than a pipe. « Now what are you little hooligan doing here ? » the man he ran into immediately questioned. He was tall, unshaved, and wearing old military pants. Artyom wasn’t really reassured. He tried talking through his crying « _I’m lost, I need to see my uncle sasha, Sukhoi, at the s- the VDNKh station, please I got lost because of the ra-»_ « _Wait, you need to see Sukhoi ?_ » He cut Artyom’s mumbling. The boy nodded very quickly and added « _He’s my stepfather_ ». « _Well he’s probably not so happy knowing you’re running around in dark tunnels !_ » the man warned. Hopefully, he didn’t wander off that far, and the man guided him back in a short time. Short, but long enough to get Sukhoi completely panicked. When the guy brought him back the adopted kid, he had the longest sigh. « _I found him in the southern tunnel, for some reasons._ » The look in Sukhoi’s face went from a relieved one to a dark stare. At this very moment, Artyom wished he had been even smaller than he already was. But he was still relieved to see his stepfather again. The man seemed even thiner and paler, he had a cut on his chin, and his big eyebrows frowned. « _Thank you for bringing him back, I owe you one._ » The guy Artyom didn’t know smiled « _Boys will be boys !_ » _« Boys will be educated._ » Sukhoi cut, and leaving on this, he took the child by the hand and rushed outside. The whole way, he said nothing, and Artyom didn’t dare break the silence. Once inside the tent, he opened his mouth but Uncle Sasha cut him right away « _I come back after three days of mission, expecting you as we said, and you are not home !_ » he began, immediately raising his voice « _I search for you, ask everyone in the station, but you’re still nowhere to be seen !_ » Artyom started sobbing again. « _I spend more than an hour trying to find a trace of you, I ask others to search, and nothing !_ » Sukhoi’s voice was still trembling from the anxiety this whole thing brought. He inspired and kept going « _And when someone brings you back, I hear that you have been wandering in the tunnels ? Where I specifically forbid you to go, many times ?_ » The kid was looking down, he knew that he had been told all of that, he knew it had been a stupid thing to do. « _I left for three days because I trusted you Artyom, what you did was really dangerous and irresponsible ! »_ His scolding speech was echoing in the tent. « _You have to follow the rules I set, I let you run around in the station, but you stay away from the tunnels !_ » Sukhoi repeated the golden rule with strong authority. He suddenly stopped talking, looking at the little child, quite concerned. Artyom started crying even more and wailed _« I’m sorry Uncle Sashaaaa_ » He then rushed to him to hug his stepfather’s legs, since that was as high as he could reach. « _I’m sorry, it was the rat, I got scared, scared of the rat, like that day, I ran but, but-_ » he sobbed chaotically. Sukhoi realized the kid had been quite terrified by his own doing. He sighed, and put his hand on the boy’s head « _There, there, Artyom, it’s over now. I hope you learned from your mistake that rules are meant to be followed, especially when I’m not there_. » Artyom sniffed and nodded « _Yes, I, I’m really sorry_ » he repeated his apologies again, and Sukhoi lifted him up in his arms. « _You’re okay now Artyomka. You got me really scared. But you’re okay._ ». They hugged for a little moment in a soft feeling silence, only disturbed by Artyom’s sobbing. Sukhoi let relief replacing the sheer panic he felt when he found out the child wasn’t home. He held the boy tight until he almost stopped crying. They ate dinner calmly, and even if he had been grounded for a week, Artyom was happy to hear the end of the story Sukhoi read to him before night. 

_ Sukhoi kept walking around the tent, not able to find sleep. He figured the feeling of not knowing where his kid was, or not even knowing if he was alive or not, was worse than knowing he had died. He just didn’t know, not a single information. He squinted his eyes in an effort not to cry. He couldn’t say he was trying to mourn. He just waited for any given sign. Somehow, the events weren’t even enough to distract him when he would go back, late at night, to an empty tent. At first, he got upset, thinking that Artyom was late, or was doing something unplanned. But now, he felt desperate, even though he had a whole station to support before it went to chaos.  _


	5. 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a big fan of that one ehhhhh a little short and a little confusing  
> but hey, artist! Artyom right ?

« _Yes Uncle Sasha, I’ll stay inside until you come back tonight, I promise._ » The kid swore solemnly. « _Good. Promises are meant to be kept._ » Sukhoi warned him. « _I have something for you so you don’t get too bored_ ». He got up, followed closely by the curious little boy. Artyom a opened wide as as he saw his stepfather getting a little carton box out of his huge bag. He handed it to the boy, who immediately opened it, and got out the ten little crayons. « _They’re old,_ » Sukhoi apologized « _But I think you can use them if you’d like._ » The boy checked the different colors, quite amazed. « _I uh, I got you this as well_ ». He spread a few sheets of paper on the table. It was a large yellowy one he had been given by an old friend who used to replicate cards of the metro. « _You can draw on these, but never on the books._ » « _Never on the books._ » Artyom repeated already holding an orange crayon. He waved as Sukhoi left the tent. He remembered using similar crayons, before life went underground. He scribbled, trying to see if the colors weren’t faded. Apart from the purple one, they were quite in a good state. Artyom didn’t mind, he didn’t like purple. Spreading the red, yellow and blue on the paper made him unexpectedly happy. The inside of the metro wasn’t that colorful, it was all dull greys and darkness. He made a cheerful nonsense of colors appear all over the page. Then he wanted to draw something, something real. « _I’m gonna draw Zhenya._ » the little boy thought out loud, full of determination. And so he did. Then, he drew a second figure, a little bigger. That was Vitali. He tried to draw tents around, and a big red bulb for the light. He took yet another page, not sure of what he wanted to draw. « _I’m gonna draw uncle Sasha !_ » he exclaimed. He put a lot in attention in drawing the man. The day passed quite quickly, and soon Sukhoi was back. « _Artyom, you didn’t eat your lunch ?_ » « _I forgot._ » the boy said, not lifting his eyes from his sheet. He then got up with one of the large page and held it « _Look !_ » It was so big it was almost hiding his chubby face. Sukhoi stared at the drawing, squinting his eyes. « _It’s you !_ » Artyom claimed after hearing no reaction. He couldn’t see his stepfather’s amused smile from behind his piece. « _It is_ » he repeated. « _You like it ?_ » Sukhoi started laughing « _Of course_ » For a moment, Artyom was scared he was making fun of him, but then the man suggested « _What about we hang it somewhere ?_ ». Nothing could have made the little boy happier. Once the drawing was pinned on the tent, Artyom ate dinner, suddenly realizing he was quite hungry.

The next day, as he was still grounded, and decided to repeat his artistic activities while waiting for Sukhoi to return. At some point, while scribbling with a green crayon, the child found himself starting to draw fragments of his memories, not from underground, but from the surface. Memories of a life outside the metro. Around all the blurry images, one stuck to Artyom’s mind. Trees and plants, what his mom used to call the Botanical Gardens. He remembered the colors and the sun. He remembered… _Ice cream_. He drew the green of the trees and some other little details he could figure. He had to draw his mom now, so the memory would be complete. But there lied the problem. The boy couldn’t quite remember her now. He tried to recall the color of her dress. Or her smile. Nothing came. He spent a moment facing the white of the page, frustrated. He wanted to remember his mom. If he couldn’t have her back, couldn’t he at least get her face in his head ? Sometimes, people had told the kid that his mom would live in his heart or his head. Artyom didn’t really understand. And now that he realized he couldn’t see the reassuring image of his mother’s face he had even more trouble understanding this. He felt like crying. He had only drawn a figure, leaving the oval face completely blank. « _Artyom, are you alright ?_ » His stepfather just arrived, seeing the gloomy look on the kid’s face. The child nodded, closer than ever from crying. Sukhoi stepped forward to the table to take a look at the drawing. He stared a while. Children drawing could be quite tough to understand, but this time, somehow, he quickly figured it out. He looked up at the boy again, concerned. « _Do you want to hang up this one too ?_ » he simply said, brushing the boy’s hair. He nodded, closing his teary eyes. Sukhoi felt as a rock had been dropped inside his stomach. A lump grew in his throat as he pinned the drawing next to the other. Artyom couldn’t remember his mom. Of course, he was so young… He couldn’t come up with anything to say, so he stayed uncomfortably silent while giving the kid his dinner. Once again, he felt really bad for the kid. But more than the inevitable pity, he felt crushed by his responsibility. What if he could never be a parent figure for him ? He knew he could never replace his mother, nor his father whoever he had been. But was he good enough to make him feel surrounded, and supported ? What if he failed ? What if he failed and Artyom would feel like an orphan all his life ? Sukhoi didn’t remember saying much that night.

_Had he failed ? Was this why his boy wouldn’t return ?_ _At this point, Sukhoi couldn’t help but let those thoughts torment him. Maybe the boy was alive, maybe he just decided to leave because he never felt home there ? Somehow, this didn’t make the man sad. If at least he was alive. He needed to know, god he just needed proof. A proof that Artyom was alive. And why not, a proof that he had been a good father, even an adoptive one._


	6. 06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ........ oh wow i'm alive
> 
> I've been quite busy with school + my job but I wanted to continue this fic so I'm taking the time to write again !  
> I just need some baby Artyom content, so I will write it :)  
> anyway I hope you will enjoy this chapter, it's extremely self-indulgent and a little emotional (because I decided so-)

Sukhoi thought that the first day of school would make the little Artyom worried, but it didn’t at all. In fact, he had rarely seen him that excited about anything. The kid was usually a calm one, but right now he was running and jumping all around the tent, not even able to sit still for breakfast. « _Happy to finally go and learn how to read ?_ » A seven years old Artyom nodded quickly with a large grin on his face. He had grown up a bit since he arrived at VDNKh, and his stepfather just had shaved his hair sharp and clean before he would get in school for a few hours. After all, he’d be fine, he already had a friend his age. That’s what Sukhoi tried to tell himself. Not that he was really worried, but maybe just a little bit. Honestly, he was glad there was somewhat of a school in the station, and not just because he wouldn’t have to leave Artyom alone all day while he worked, but also because it was reassuring to know the kid would have an education. He would learn how to read, how to count, and whatever they could teach them here. Maybe they would even tell them about how life used to work before the Metro. Sukhoi wondered what would be the real utility of it, but he was sure kids were told about the surface. He stopped thinking about all that moment he let Artyom run towards the tents in which classes were given, deciding to just trust the organization of the station. The kid would be alright.

By the time Sukhoi got back, Artyom was already waiting for him inside their shared tent and almost gave the man a heart attack by greeting him with an excited shout. His stepfather brushed his hair as a greeting and asked « _Well how was it then ?_ ». Except he wasn’t quite prepared for the speed at which Artyom started talking about his first school day. Sukhoi sat down, tired but willing to understand the flow of words coming out of the usually quiet boy’s mouth. Even during dinner, Artyom would go on so passionately about what he did and what he was going to do that his hot meal slowly turned cool. But Sukhoi simply smiled and listen. His meal got cool too actually, but none of them minded. After seeing the boy yawning a couple of times, the man decided it was late enough. Even if he was himself really tired, he waited until he was sure the boy was asleep. He stayed a while in silence, suddenly thinking that if this was quite an atypical turning his life was taking. But thinking about it, what could really be typical about their life now ?

During the following weeks, Sukhoi slowly got used to « _sending the kid to school_ » as he told his workmates. Even if his daily duties in the station were tiring responsibilities, he couldn’t lie about the little spark of joy he felt coming back to Artyom knowing the kid would spend the evening telling him about whatever he did at school and listening to Sukhoi exaggerating about his work and missions.

Being the impressionable boy he was, it wasn’t long until he would proudly claim to the man : « _You know Uncle Sasha, I don’t really remember your age, but when I will be about your age, I will be a stalker !_ » and become quite obsessed with the idea. He had brought it up before, but since he was going to school, it was growing more and more in the boy’s mind. Of course, he had heard about stalkers both from Sukhoi and his school mates, they were always talked about as heroes and adventurers. And for kids the age of Artyom, the surface felt like something they had been robbed from, they were supposed to have their life up there after all, but most of them couldn’t even remember it. All of which added to the appeal of the unknown. Sukhoi wasn’t really surprised, and he didn’t have the heart to break his dreams by telling him how dangerous it was. And even if he did, the dangerous part would probably have made it even more interesting in the eyes of a seven years old. So he just cheered the boy’s ambitions. He couldn’t believe he now was the one to say stuff like « _If you want to be such a great stalker then you better start by being great at school_ ». But the boy liked to read, and he liked school. So that usually wasn’t a worry. Sukhoi didn’t know much about kids, but he didn’t except Artyom to know how to read that fast.

One evening, as he was reading one of the few books they had, he managed to read two sentences in a row after a while of trying. He looked up at Sukhoi in search of validation when the man suddenly cheered loudly « _Yes ! You got it right kid that’s good !_ » The little boy smiled so widely his eyes squinted, jumped from his chair, a little too excited for a kid that was about to go to sleep. Sukhoi knew the education he tried giving him was far from perfect, but well now at least the boy could read. He looked back at the book but the man decided « _I think it’s late enough Artyom. Better go to sleep on a victory right ?_ ». He brushed the boy’s hair like he was used to, but felt like he had to say something else. « _I’m proud of you_ ». He tried not sounding awkward because he really meant it. « _Thank you papa !_ » Artyom answered before laying down in his bed and covering himself with an old but warm wool blanket. Though Sukhoi stayed still for a while, pretty stunned. The little one didn’t seem to realize anything, but the man was unable to think past the last word he just said. It had been a little more than a year now since he rescued Artyom, but he never really called him _that_ before. He felt his heart soften. He never called him that before. The man didn’t expect it at all, but he got intensely emotional the more he thought about it, and the crying urge he felt growing in his chest caught him by surprise. God damn it, he couldn’t just start crying in front of the kid. He bit the inside of his mouth and just took a deep breath while watching over him. He stayed like this until he was sure his boy was asleep. _This is nice_ , he thought. He didn’t know if he truly felt like a father, but if he was enough of it for Artyom to spontaneously call him « papa », then he guessed it was perfect. And seeing him so peacefully sleeping there was so soothing. If he had to wake up every day in an underground world and work until night in the metro, he figured it could be just for that. This feeling grew stronger as he told himself that after all, it could all mean something if he managed to give Artyom a nice life, even here. A peaceful life, where he gets to fall asleep like that without worry nor loneliness. He thought for a moment that he was getting a little too carried away, but it actually made him happy. It made him happy to watch over him, so that’s just what he’d do. He really wanted to give him a hug, but that would have woken the little guy up, so he just went to sleep as well, still smiling a little.

_The old man was losing it all. Faith, appetite, hope, sleep. He stopped counting the things he was losing since he lost the only one that could truly make a difference. His boy. And still, he had to get up and help the whole station to keep it together, still, he was throwing himself into work all day long until he was exhausted enough to just sit on a bench and eventually sleep._

_«_ You look like you could use some rest friend. _» Sukhoi lifted his head to see a man standing in front of him. He knew him. Some mushroom farmer he used to be good friends with. Artyom even worked for him at some point. One thing for sure was that he was right. He could use some fucking rest. He sighed and squinted his eyes in a painful rictus. «_ I take it the boy hasn’t come back there ? _» Sukhoi didn’t answer, but when he looked up again, the guy had a compassionate look on his face. Which somehow, didn’t help, as Sukhoi just cracked and took his face between his hands. He heard the guy sat by him and felt a hand tapping on his shoulder. «_ He’s my boy you know _» Sukhoi’s voice was crackling as he almost started sobbing. «_ He’s my little boy. _». His friend didn’t answer anything, only nodded quietly. It's not like there was anything to say anyway. At least, he felt a little less alone for a little moment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you a lot for reading this !! please consider leaving a comment if you liked it, I really want to know if any of you want more of that content (comments fuels me istg)  
> I'll try to write the next chapter in less than three months lmao


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